


Sin

by FalCatrecon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Not in depth, Trauma, but mention of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 09:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17998946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalCatrecon/pseuds/FalCatrecon
Summary: For Gabriel Bingo square 'feeling useless'For gabriel-monthly-challenge March song prompt 'Sin' by Nine Inch Nails------Pornstars. It was his first word in a long time, simply because he knew it was what they expected. Just himself, good ol’ trickster. He had started his real story on the walls, but let it devolve back into his supposed normal babble. He had to put something more past those pornstars to finish the explanation since he was running out of wall space. It was all nervous energy, something spiking from his mind that felt blank for so very long. Finally outside of Asmodeus’s clutches, something stirred. He was afraid of that stirring. He didn’t need to exist, he didn’t need to think. That only got him in trouble. Less movement, less noise, and he got left alone. That’s all. Be small, be out of the way, out of sight out of mind. Right? Right.





	Sin

Pornstars. It was his first word in a long time, simply because he knew it was what they expected. Just himself, good ol’ trickster. He had started his real story on the walls, but let it devolve back into his supposed normal babble. He had to put something more past those pornstars to finish the explanation since he was running out of wall space. It was all nervous energy, something spiking from his mind that felt blank for so very long. Finally outside of Asmodeus’s clutches, something stirred. He was afraid of that stirring. He didn’t need to exist, he didn’t need to think. That only got him in trouble. Less movement, less noise, and he got left alone. That’s all. Be small, be out of the way, out of sight out of mind. Right? Right.

But then there was the Winchesters. Sam. Had to fix his mouth, had to let him speak. Had to remind him exactly of the responsibility he had just noped out of. Had to make him think again, feel something other than fear again. He wasn’t needed or useful outside his grace. He knew that. He was far too easily broken, that was proven too. But they were looking for a part, for that Gabriel they knew before. So why not play it? So he did, he smarted off, he let some sass into his words. Easy peasy.

Up until Asmodeus talked. Oh no, no no. He wasn’t so powerful as all that. Just a resource. Yup. And while his mind had been a bit more scattered with Ketch he did know they just needed him for his grace too. Need to be quiet, need to be small. Sure Sam promised protection, but what could he do? Human against a prince fueled with his own grace. Oh sure, that’s going to work wonderfully. Ten minutes to try not to think. Not to consider this place anything but a false hope. If anything he probably just doomed Sam and Cas because he was him. If he had just hid better, didn’t rely on others like he had. But no, he had to bring people he thought he trusted into his life. Got hauled off, got torn down, got drained.

The lights flickered, the alarm screamed. It masked his near scream himself as he cowered, his mouth tightly shut. He was good, right? He hadn’t run, he’d been forced to run. He didn’t want pain. Before this he rarely felt pain. But being drained was near human, it was a gateway to being deconstructed. Base elements of fear and pain and that’s all he was. Well, a fountain of grace to drink from too. But that was all.

Being dragged wasn’t fun, but expected. Faced with the white of that suit, to know what was to come. He didn’t want, he never wanted. But what got him to refocus were the others. He could take it, he could accept it if he had to, but Sam and Cas weren’t him. All they did was try to help a broken thing, damaged goods. He took a deep breath, feeling inside what grace they had given back. Maybe, just maybe… Tossing the two underlings were so easy, so simple.

The words from Asmodeus were upsetting, frightening almost, but the grace was there inside, unfettered. The ‘prince’ had stopped trying to suppress his grace with spells and shackles, having leaned on his lack of it for so long. He wasn’t weak anymore. Not right now. It was all too simple to force bravado, and somehow even more simple to fry the demon where he stood. It used his grace, yes, but the tormentor was _gone_. He was free?

Gabriel made sure the other two were fine, still lost in a bit of a daze. He could feel he was still nearly useless, but he wasn’t controlled anymore. He was still afraid, he could still be harnessed in the future. He also knew Sam and Cas wanted his grace for a spell. He also knew they were actually decent enough people not to force it. He sat and listened to their explanation of the last roughly 8 years worth of everything. He ignored most of it in favor of trying to simply think of what he was going to do. The only part that snagged his attention was the brief mention of Dad, who he found out was still an asshole and had run off again. No surprise there.

“Whoa, too much information. Okay, slow down. I’m not processing.” Good words for not listening. Though he wasn’t processing really anything. The world was suddenly a whole lot wider and vast than it had been in a long time. He was rudderless in the ocean.

Castiel kept talking. “And there’s more. Michael wants to come to this Earth and destroy it, and we may need your help to fight him.” 

“What?” Nope, no. That was a storm on the horizon, to continue the ocean metaphor. He would use his damn hands to paddle away from that.

“Yeah, welcome to the team.” Sam piped in, with a hopeful smile. Oh no, he wasn’t falling for that again. He let Dean stay alive, he went and fake died twice, he even gave them that DVD for all those sad Winchester speeches and looks. He wasn’t going to fall down that hole again.

“Uuuuh yeeeaaah, not so much. I mean thank you for the rescue and the redemption arc, but uh, I’m not really a team guy, sooo, I’m gonna bounce. Okay. But you know, it’s been… um, what’s the opposite of fun? That.” He started to beeline straight for the door. He wasn’t going to get into this. He wasn’t strong in the least. Besides, he had a few loose ends to tie up when he gave it some thought. 

Sam followed his movements, continuing to plead their case. “No, Gabriel, don’t, you can’t just walk away. If Michael comes here he will end this world.” 

“And the last time the world was ending I put my money on you. I think you can pull it off again.” He actually meant that too. If the gist of what they said earlier was true they kind of saved the world a whole mess of times. They didn’t need him at all. Never had. Probably would have figured out that ring thing without the DVD. They were smart. Always figured him and his tricks out at least.

“No. You can not turn your back on your fathers creation.” Castiel sounded so angry. So purposeful. Just the right angel for those Winchesters, wasn’t he? But man did he choose the wrong words.

“Castiel, my father turned his back on his creation. Guess it just runs in the family.” Dad was never a subject he wanted to talk about, and even never was too soon. This whole mess wasn’t his problem, wasn’t something a broken thing could fix. Not that he’d probably help even at proper power. Hell, if Dad was back why didn’t he help? He had left him under Asmodeus so why the hell would he help anything of his.

“No, Gabriel. Please.” The last bit of pleading from Sam as he just hopped off to his next destination, which was anywhere but the bunker.

They’d be fine, they always have been. He wasn’t needed. Never needed. Besides, he had a new mission of sorts to work through. Burning that asshole alive set his mind down a wonderful path, and he still had four more to go that got him there. Once those were checked off he could check out. It was a grand perfect plan for Gabriel/Loki/Archangel. Sure. It was something, at least. Three demigods and a full god of mischief against a near powerless angel, sounded like a great time. What else was he supposed to do but follow his pre-set nature. Go through the motions and maybe he’d feel less afraid, less hurt, less broken. Someday, possibly, maybe. Probably not. But he could put on a good show in the meantime.


End file.
